Metal Gear Whitetrash
by TorreOle
Summary: PG13 because Snake and co. have dirty mouths and minds. Snake, Raiden, and Otacon are sent on a new mission to an area mall to procure some action figures. Updated again, several times over. :)
1. Chapter 1

Obligatory A/N and Disclaimer:  
  
I don't own any of the characters mentioned herein. In fact, I'm still financially dependent on my parents. My only source of income is peddling calendars seasonally at Waldenbooks to buy CDs and video games, so suing me would be a useless venture. Plus, as I understand, lawyers aren't cheap and legal fees would probably just leave you a couple hundred dollars in the hole.  
  
By the way, this is just peppered with inaccuracies and everyone's stuck in an Out Of Character warp. Now, I must admit to having read the ongoing "The Daily Lives of Snake and Otacon" saga, and it gave me quite a few giggles. I started writing this before I even knew there was a ff.net, though, so please don't flame me claiming I plagiarized those authors' wonderful work. I would appreciate a review or two, though.  
  
Once Upon a Time, In the Land of White Trash...  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Damnit, out of beer again!" Snake muttered. He kicked at a stack of old pizza boxes, sending them across the floor.  
  
Otacon was curled up in a nest of filthy laundry with an equally dirty magazine. Snake had been interested in his porno collection until he found out they were all anime-style - they weren't even real women. Otacon pushed his glasses up his nose. "Go get some, then."  
  
"Bah." Snake scratched at his unshaven face.  
  
"I'll pay," Otacon offered. He knew Snake was dead broke - hence their current and likely permanent residence in a doublewide tin can with someone named Bubba living next door.  
  
Snake perked up. "Really?"  
  
"But you can't go out dressed like that."  
  
Snake had his favorite bandana on, but was clad in nothing else but a pair of plaid boxers and a white undershirt. "Oh, yeah. Sneaking suit is at the cleaners again. DAMN!"  
  
Snake punched the nearest wall. The cheap metal wrenched, buckled outward, leaving a nasty looking dent in the living room wall. "Damn!" Snake exclaimed again.  
  
Otacon rolled his eyes. "If only your fans could see you now."  
  
"Hey. Don't talk shit about me - who's the one supporting this family?" Snake crossed his arms.  
  
"Ah, yes. Part-time night shift at 7-11. Our financial situation is rock-solid."  
  
"Better than seasonal at Best Buy."  
  
"I TOLD you, I'm looking at Suncoast next."  
  
"We're such losers," Snake said dejectedly. He pulled his bandana down over his eyes and fell into one of the peculiarly smelling chairs they had stolen from a neighbor.  
  
Otacon glanced at the pizza boxes, Big Mac wrappers, and empty beer cans. Through the window, he saw their snowmobile up on cinderblocks. "Yup."  
  
* * *  
  
"Y'want EasyMac or Spagettios?" Snake yelled from the breakfast nook.  
  
"Chef Boyardee products again, Snake?" Otacon was laying flat on his back on the couch with his magazine over his eyes.  
  
"When it's my turn to cook -"  
  
"When it's your turn to cook, we eat whatever the microwave can puke out in under seven minutes. Why don't we ever go out to eat?"  
  
Snake rolled his eyes and reached for the Spagettios. Damn, he loved Skettios!  
  
"Well, dear," he said in a falsetto woman voice, "Maybe for our anniversary. Will you buy me that skimpy little lace thing we saw at Victoria's Secret?"  
  
"I just want us to get some real food for a change."  
  
"Denny's is open 24 hours a day."  
  
"How about that French place?"  
  
"No way," Snake said as he dumped the contents of two cans into a saucepan. "Last time I let you take me someplace French, I got felt up by the waiter."  
  
"First of all," Otacon began. "It was Italian. And second, you were the one who was drunk and making eyes at him. Crouching and knocking on walls to get his attention - I almost died of embarrassment."  
  
Snake made a face to himself. Drunk, my ass. He could chug two six-packs on an empty stomach and still snowmobile through the fancy-pants ski resort yelling obscenities with the best of them.  
  
Just then, a voice wafted in the screen door. "Mmm, I smell Skettios!"  
  
Snake cringed. "Raiden," he grumbled under his breath. He glanced over, saw Otacon grimace too.  
  
The door burst open and there was Raiden, long blonde hair done up in liberty spikes. He was wearing a fashionably stained Linkin Park T-shirt and cut-off jeans. "Hey, Snake! Hey Otacon! Rose kicked me out again. Can I hang out with you?"  
  
Avoiding the subject, Otacon asked, "So... Raiden. How're the kids?"  
  
Raiden gave him a blank look. He looked over at Snake. Snake was holding up two fingers, wiggling them in his direction. What...? Oh, yeah! "Yeah! I've got two kids!" Raiden said, grinning more because he was happy to have remembered than that he was actually fond of his children. "Dawson's almost two, he's got this funny habit of stealing my cigarettes..."  
  
"I got `im hooked," Snake said proudly, like a good mentor should. Otacon shuddered.  
  
"And, uh... the other one..." he looked at Snake for help again.  
  
"Begins with an S..." Snake coached.  
  
"Sh... Shakira?"  
  
"There ya go," Snake congratulated him.  
  
"Yeah. That's it. Shakira's going on three months. I tell you, they keep Rose- er, US - busy. Shakira's great, for a baby. I mean, she screams all night and during TRL..."  
  
Snake turned back from the stove to bat his eyes at Otacon. "Why does WE have children, honey?" he asked, using his teasing girly voice again.  
  
Otacon blushed and glared at the same time. "I dropped that, like, half an hour ago, Snake."  
  
Snake snickered and went back to stirring the Spagettios. Raiden pushed aside some laundry and sat down on the floor, and turned on the Playstation Otacon had modified to play PS2 games. He had a suggestion that was about as smart as he was. "You could adopt kids. You know, if you're into that."  
  
"Snake's too busy for children. He spends most of his days in a drunken haze."  
  
"Do not."  
  
"'My Own Worst Enemy', by LIT - that's his personal anthem," Otacon continued. He began singing. Badly. "... please tell me why-y-y... my car is in the front yard ... and I'm sleeping with my clothes on..."  
  
Snake flipped him off. Raiden laughed, and Otacon blushed furiously.  
  
Suddenly, Snake dropped to one knee and put a hand to the side of his neck. Raiden and Otacon waited with baited breath while Snake listened, making surprised facial expressions and nodding at regular intervals. It looked like a matter of dire import, so Otacon and Raiden turned on their own Codecs/nanomachines to listen in.  
  
"... and for only 99 cents a minute after that! By switching your long-distance service to Sprint-"  
  
"No thanks, we don't want any," Otacon interrupted quickly. The three turned off their Codecs and nanomachines.  
  
"Darn telemarketers!" Otacon exclaimed.  
  
"I don't know, it sounded like a pretty good deal to me," Raiden said. Snake nodded.  
  
"There should be laws against people so stupid reproducing," Otacon muttered.  
  
Someone knocked on the trailer's screen door. "Hey," said a voice Raiden and Snake recognized instantly. It was that strong, smooth, deep voice that had spent many nights whispering in their ears... over the Codec, perverts. "Smells like something's burnin'." Colonel Campbell said, swinging the door open and entering the living room.  
  
A big blue exclamation point flashed over Snake's head as he jumped up and whirled toward the stove. The Skettios!  
  
"Campbell... uh... sir," Raiden said, rightfully confused. "Now. Are you the REAL Campbell, or are you Mr. GW-AI-cyber-Campbell?"  
  
"I'm the AI's representation of Colonel Campbell. But, thanks to this nifty doohickey that works just like Holo-Doc's on Voyager, I can take physical form. And even manipulate matter. Like so!"  
  
AI Campbell kicked Raiden in the place the President had grabbed. "As you can see, I am here to provide a little perverse slapstick. Also, I'll be providing you with a purpose, otherwise this'll turn into an episode of Seinfeld. I'm here to introduce the key element of any plot: the conflict!"  
  
"Oh, goody, a mission!" Otacon said, clapping excitedly.  
  
"Geek," Raiden gasped from the floor.  
  
"Geek," Snake sneered. "Damnit, the Skettios are ruined!"  
  
"What's the mission, CG Colonel?" Snake asked, lighting up a cigarette. He puffed away as Otacon turned green. "New Metal Gear prototype hijacked by a group of emotionally warped, mentally unstable, genetically engineered band of uber-soldiers-turned-terrorists?" He guessed, feeling pretty damn confident.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh. `Cause I could handle that."  
  
"No, you gentlemen will be facing a far more lethal adversary. I doubt all of you will come back alive. You might wanna arrange who gets your..." He looked around in disgust, pretty convincing for a computer-generated person. "...stuff."  
  
"Sounds serious," Otacon rasped through the air filtration mask he strapped to his face whenever Snake decided he needed a smoke.  
  
"Your mission... should you choose to accept it..." Snake, Otacon, and Raiden leaned toward him eagerly, faces tense, eyes gleaming. They were psyched for whatever the Colonel was going to throw at them.  
  
AI Campbell paused dramatically. "... is to collect ALL of the Metal Gear Solid 2 action figures!"  
  
Snake, Raiden, and Otacon's shoulders slumped. That was it?  
  
"And, there's the little subplot about fitting all the figurines into a panel in a supercomputer to launch a nuke, but you needn't be concerned with that right now. Time for a cutscene! Five-minute bathroom break. Due to complaints, Kojima made it mandatory."  
  
The screen blackened and a green clock began counting down.  
  
When they returned, AI Campbell ushered them onto the couch, doled out MilkDuds and popcorn, and turned on the TV, which initiated the FMV.  
  
"Barney is a dinosaur / from our imagination..."  
  
"Oopsie-woopsie! Wrong channel," he apologized. He fiddled with the remote.  
  
"... You will have two mission objectives. One: collect the action figures, and two: pick me up a copy of that new Enrique Iglesias CD. Rose also says you're low on milk, Raiden, and it would be great if you could stop at the Gas `n Go and pick up a gallon on your way home or something."  
  
ON the TV, the camera panned over a huge parking lot. The frame drifted over to a hideous orange building. The voice-over continued. "You will infiltrate the new shopping complex, Big Shadow Shells, off I-34 next to Rob's Rent-It."  
  
AI Campbell fixed them with a deadly serious stare. "There are only 328 shopping days left till Christmas, gentlemen, so you'll have to work fast."  
  
The scene changed to a collage of still shots of men and women carrying bags and pushing shopping carts. "This is the face of your enemy. Soccer moms, Goths, rowdy groups of teens, disgruntled retail workers, the elderly and the obese - the usual rag-tag, ruthless bunch that plague local malls. They're very good at what they do - and they stand between you and your goal."  
  
Snake, Otacon, and Raiden nodded grimly.  
  
The pictures on the screen began to dissolve. "Well, at the risk of providing any useful information, I must stop here."  
  
"PRODUCED AND DIRECTED BY NO DOORS PRODUCTIONS" laser-texted in white over the black.  
  
The cutscene ended. Otacon was leaning against Snake, snoring gently, Snake was trying to stealthily procure Raiden's remaining MilkDuds, and someone had spilled popcorn all over.  
  
"Oh, before I forget - as per usual, you can't take any weapons with you. Or anything that could be construed as even remotely useful, at all. You'll have to find equipment on-site."  
  
"Damnit!" Snake and Raiden proclaimed. That woke up Otacon, who shoved his glasses up his nose and blinked. Blink. Blink.  
  
"And also... this trailer will self-destruct in five seconds."  
  
Snake looked at Otacon, Otacon looked at Raiden, Raiden looked at Snake. They launched themselves off the couch and pounded out the door.  
  
"Damn, I love screwing with the grunts," AI Campbell chuckled.  
  
Alrighty, that's it for now. Pretty stupid, yeah? I won't force any more of this inanity on you guys, unless you leave me a review telling me to do so. I might suspect you of being a masochist, but I'd be happy to scribble more mindless blather for your enjoyment. 


	2. Chapter 2 * All filler, no funny. *

A/N : Alrighty, some of you liked the first chapter – and if I can make even one person smile, whether it be at my stupidity or at material they deem funny, then I've done my job! Here's Chapter 2, and here's to hoping it doesn't fall flat! * tosses back a shot * =) And, by the way… anything in here should be taken as it was typed: in amiable jest.  
  
1 Metal Gear White Trash: Chapter 2  
  
Raiden twirled his sword expertly. Otacon ducked, just in time. Raiden took aim and did a jump-twirl combo, soliciting a screech from Otacon.  
  
"Raiden, you're gonna take my head off with that thing!" He narrowed his eyes and gave Raiden a look from his hiding spot under the kitchen table.  
  
Raiden smiled sweetly. "If I'm lucky."  
  
"Oh…" Otacon wanted to use a four-letter word, but swearing was the forte of the intellectually disadvantaged, so he decided to feel quietly superior instead. Well, okay. He really wanted to stick one to Raiden. "Go commit fornication under consent of the king with… your mom."  
  
"What with my mom?" Raiden asked. He spun the sword, needlessly showing off for Snake, or the player, or whoever, and sheathed his blade.  
  
Otacon just blinked at him again. Blink. Blink. He liked doing that, it was kind of creepy. Blink. Blink.  
  
Otacon's Codec beeped.  
  
"You know, that word didn't really stem from an acronym," Mei Ling said. "In fact, it has cognates in several languages… in Middle Dutch, fokken, Swedish, focka, and in Norwegian, fukka."  
  
"Glad to know your sole purpose in life isn't just to provide little proverbs, Mei Ling. You're a linguist, too."  
  
"Fukka you, Otacon. That word happens to have a proud, noble history. And, by the way… the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain. Which means I could trash you any day." She signed off.  
  
Raiden grinned like an idiot. He liked Mei Ling. "Rrrow!" he said, making claw marks in the air in Otacon's direction.  
  
"Catfight!" Snake called from the other room.  
  
He finished had just finished cramming himself into his sneaking suit, and was looking around for his guns, which Otacon had hidden. Otacon had this crazy idea that binge drinking and Stinger missile launchers didn't mix.  
  
'You can't take any weapons, anyway. CG Campbell told you so.' the nonsensical part of his brain reminded him.  
  
"Well, brain, what sense does it make to go into hostile territory without weapons? Walk softly and carry a big stick, as Roosevelt said. But I've got better stuff than a big stick, damn it."  
  
'That wouldn't be fair!' the other half of his brain replied.  
  
"But it would make so much more sense. Then I wouldn't have to sneak around being all stealthy. I could rush in like Rambo on a Red Bull-and- crack cocktail."  
  
'No!'  
  
"Not even a can of Skettios?"  
  
'Not even a can of Skettios.'  
  
"Damn it," Snake said aloud. He finished tying his sneaking suit in back, which was disturbingly similar to lacing up a corset. He grabbed his bandana, fashioned it into a bow on top of his head. "I feel pretty… oh so pretty…" he hummed to himself, as he listened to Otacon and Raiden bicker in the kitchen. He checked the mirror. Nah, that wasn't good. He untied the bandana bow and put it on the regular, tough-guy, ninja-style way.  
  
In the kitchen, Otacon and Raiden were still snapping at each other. Snake walked out of his bedroom and tapped Otacon on the shoulder.  
  
"What?" Otacon said, annoyed. He had just been proving how smart he was by reciting Darwin's Theory of Evolution.  
  
Snake giggled. "I have a confession."  
  
"You're the one who's been stealing my Prozac," Otacon guessed.  
  
"Oh… that, too," Snake said. He giggled again. "But this is something different."  
  
"What?" Raiden asked.  
  
"I…" he leaned toward Otacon and Raiden conspiratorially. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I …don't… wear… anything… under… my… Sneaking Suit." He burst into laughter as Otacon recoiled in horror.  
  
"Oh, Snake, yuck!" Otacon wailed, backing away. "Come on. Let's act like we've at least reached a mid-level rung on the evolutionary ladder."  
  
Raiden was laughing too. "I don't, either!" He admitted. He spread his arms, displaying his Skull Suit proudly. He had gone home to change, and brushed his hair, and collected his sword. Screw Campbell, he liked slicing and dicing.  
  
Well, in the face of such information, there was only one thing for Otacon to do. He started crying.  
  
"Oh, horror of horrors!" Snake said, smiling widely. He gave Raiden a high-five. He patted Otacon on the shoulder. "C'mon, Otacon. Let's go. We'll take Raiden's car."  
  
"Yep," Raiden said. He twirled his keys on his finger. "I get to drive!"  
  
"I call front seat!" Snake said.  
  
"You always get the front seat," Otacon whined. He was still sniffling a little.  
  
"I called it first," Snake said, as if that cancelled out the injustice. Otacon rolled his eyes. Snake rolled his eyes, in imitation of Otacon. "Hello," he said in a high-pitched voice, "I'm Otacon! Ninjas are scary! I like anime! I've never had a real woman!"  
  
"I have, too!" Otacon interrupted. "In fact, I've probably had more women than you have. Those Otaku Conventions are dangerous places."  
  
"He's kidding," Snake said to Raiden. He didn't have a clue as to what went on at Otaku Conventions, but he knew there were probably no orgies involved.  
  
"Whatever. Let's go."  
  
Raiden led the way out to the car. Snake and Otacon stopped short.  
  
It was a neon green Chevy Volkswagen Beetle.  
  
"Neon… green?" Snake said weakly.  
  
"You drive a Bug?" Otacon asked, horrified all over again.  
  
"What's wrong with it?" Raiden asked. He LIKED his car. It was so… cute. "It's just like the one in the Mandy Moore video."  
  
"I just figured that you'd, you know, drive a more manly vehicle. A big black pick-up or … something." Snake gave Raiden a scrutinizing look. "Well, now that I think about it…" he looked back at the car, then at Raiden again. He nodded to himself.  
  
Okay. It was an insult to his manhood, but it could be worse. It could be pink. Snake slid into the front seat, Otacon climbed in back with his plain brown bag and Raiden hopped into the driver's seat and they peeled off.  
  
"You don't get car sick, do you?" Raiden asked nervously, looking at Otacon in the rearview mirror.  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"I dunno. Just, with your fear of heights, and blood, and violence, and the fact that you're a total mama's boy-"  
  
"I am NOT a mama's boy," Otacon said. Geez. What would it take to set these people straight?  
  
"He's not a mama's boy. Believe me," Snake said from behind his copy of "The Iliad". Hidden between the pages of that classic Greek tale was the latest issue of "Girls Gone Wild – Photo Journal".  
  
"I'm graced with a three-digit IQ. Which is more than you can claim. Also, I happen to be very sexy." He pushed his glasses up in punctuation. "I have a fan base. I don't see anyone out there on the internet talking about how much they like YOU."  
  
"Yeah, but your hobbies… I mean, anime?" Raiden said, disgusted.  
  
"Snake, what do you think of anime?" Otacon asked.  
  
"It's okay. They're not real women. Now this, this is a real woman." He held up The Iliad, pages splayed.  
  
"See? Snake is enlightened. Anime is… an art form. I am prepared to defend anime to the death."  
  
Raiden wanted to spare him and the readers that fate, so he turned up the radio.  
  
"… if you like pina coladas, and getting' caught in the rain…"  
  
Snake whipped his hand up to change the station before the song got stuck in his head. The next one wasn't much better, though.  
  
"… whenever, wherever, we're meant to be together…"  
  
Otacon leaned forward from the back seat and hit the buttons. "… you're love's extra ordinary, you're extra-ordinary, you're extra ordinary, baby…"  
  
Raiden changed it again, back to the station playing Shakira. Snake switched it again, and grinned happily as "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" blasted through the small car.  
  
"Leave it," Otacon said as Raiden inched toward the tuner again.  
  
"Touch it and die," Snake clarified. He settled back in the seat, crunched up his legs and managed to get his feet on the dashboard. "Hey, Otacon, did you pick up the rations the other day, like I told you to?"  
  
"Hey, Snake – you're not in the military any more. Remember?"  
  
"Hey, Otacon, you can't just leave us with no source of life replenishment."  
  
"Hey, Snake. I'd never do that to you."  
  
"Hey, Otacon-"  
  
"Oh, for the sake of Pete, shut up," Raiden interrupted. He swerved around an old couple going 20 in the fast lane.  
  
"What did you get? Snake asked. He squirmed in his seat, trying to get more comfortable.  
  
"Twinkies," Otacon replied, patting the package next to him.  
  
"Excellent. Good work, my friend. The mall will undoubtedly be crowded. So, to help us find the action figures quickly and efficiently…"  
  
"I took care of that, too," Otacon said proudly. He pulled two Giga Pets from his pocket. "Aside from being on the list of most-annoying has-been gizmos, these are altered to be in tune to the ionic waves sent out by the gradual decay of the plastic used to mold the action figures."  
  
Most of that went right over Snake's head, but he did notice one thing. He grabbed one from Otacon's hand. "Hey, look! Cool, they're the kitty ones!"  
  
"They are, Snake, but that's hardly the important aspect of-"  
  
Snake was pressing buttons. 'Happy Birthday' beeped from the tiny speakers. He proceeded to amuse himself by giving the little computer-kitty a vulgar name and playing "games" with it.  
  
Otacon sighed. So much hard work, and Snake was more impressed that he could name the cat "Mit Mit Shit Shit". Oh, well. Otacon put Creed into his CD player and slipped on his headphones and held an offended, aloof silence for the remainder of the drive.  
  
  
  
That's it for now, but I'll probably do more sometime in the future… lol You can review Chapter 2 and tell me how lame it was compared to Chapter 1, or how lame everything was… I encourage you to share your opinion, even if it's simply "JRR006, I'm sorry, but you suck!" 


	3. Step right up! See the amazing Chapter 3...

A/N : Unfortunately, I didn't strike sudden wealth between the posting of the last chapters and the posting of this one, so I still don't own any of the characters. Facts stated within are not necessarily facts, opinions stated within are not necessarily my opinions. Weird how that works, eh?   
  
Chapter Three  
  
"I'm bored. Are we there yet?" Snake complained. The Giga Pet had lost its appeal after ten minutes, which was a small triumph on its part, considering Snake's rather limited attention span.   
"No. Another half-hour, at least," Raiden said. He was headbanging to a Linkin Park song on the radio.   
Otacon groaned. "Oh... this chapter's gonna drag forever." His CD player had run out of batteries, so now he was stuck listening to some song about crawling in skin. Damn Phillips power-suckers.   
"Let's play a game," Raiden suggested.   
"Twister!"   
"No, Snake... I think Raiden means a WORD game."   
"Better yet," Raiden said, "I ask a question, and the two of you answer it."  
"Alright, but if anything you say is going to bring to mind images of Snake nude, I will throw myself from the vehicle." Otacon hit the "unlock" switch for punctuation.   
"Good riddance," Snake grumbled unkindly.   
"And I will take the Twinkies with me," Otacon finished.   
"No nudity!" Snake commanded Raiden.   
Well, that ruled out most of the questions Raiden had in mind, so they had to ride in silence for twenty minutes while he tried to think of a decent one. It didn't look like he was getting close to thinking of anything, and Snake swore he smelled something burning, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He was proactive, damn it. "Okay. If you were a woman for a day, what would you do?"  
"Well, that's easy," Raiden said. "I'd go bra shopping."   
"How about you, Otacon?"   
"I... don't know."   
"That's no fun," Raiden said. "Come on. At least one thing."   
"Alright... I would..."   
"I know what I'd do," Snake said. He had this funny habit of interrupting Otacon's brilliance with his slightly less-brilliance. "I'd have a slumber party with a bunch of my hot friends. And I'd visit the YMCA... to do a little reconnaissance in the ladies' locker room. Preferably while a cheerleading squad or swim team was using the facilities." He looked at Otacon. "That give you any ideas?"   
"Only about the exact nature of your perversion."   
"Come on, you know you'd be tempted. Hell, I sometimes dress in drag and visit the..." Raiden trailed off when he saw the stares he was getting. "Library," he finished. "But it's not what you think. I feel weird picking up those romance novels for Rose, you see... so I wear one of her dresses and..." He smiled meekly.   
"Whatever. Hey, Fruitboy, I think you're about to miss the exit for the mall," Snake said, pointing out the window.   
Raiden used some choice words and two-wheeled it onto the off-ramp.   
  
They pulled into the parking lot of Big Shadow Shells and rode around for awhile, trying to find a damn parking space.   
"Raiden's intellectually handicapped, do you think that counts?" Otacon asked as they drove past the handicapped spaces for the fifth time. Those six primo spots, empty as the liquor bottles under Snake's bed. They were laughing, Otacon could sense it. Those handicapped spots were TOYING with them, damn it! He narrowed his eyes at the parking spaces as Raiden pulled around and headed down a row of ghetto cruisers. They finally managed to squish in between a Greyhound bus and a family van that had lots of sickeningly cute bumper stickers plastered all over the back end of the vehicle.   
Raiden, Snake, and Otacon piled out of the car.   
"You couldn't find anything closer?" Snake complained again. He was using his Scope to zoom in on the building. At maximum zoom, the people almost looked big enough to be mistaken for tiny ants.   
"Ah, we could all use the exercise," Raiden said brightly. "I'm sure it's not as far as it looks."   
"This parking lot is the size of Rhode-fricken-Island," Snake said. "I'm a heavy smoker, and I'm rapidly approaching that frightening stage of life known as "old age"! I'm at risk for heart disease!"   
"Sissy," Otacon said. Raiden nodded. For once, they agreed on something.   
"Come on, Snake. We can always steal your wallet and proceed with the mission alone if you can't make it." Raiden practically spewed confidence. It was sickening.  
So, the three of them set off. And walked. And walked. And cursed the crowds, the cars, and everything else they could think of. Otacon and Raiden cursed each other, Snake wheezed and whined that he needed a cigarette, Raiden got happy and perky and Snake dealt him a swift blow, while Otacon tried to make believe he wasn't with them.   
They finally made it in the doors, and breathed in the sweet smell of air conditioning, giant pretzels, and dirty socks. To Snake and Otacon, it smelled a lot like home.   
"Alright, who remembers where we parked?" Otacon asked. He had to be the responsible one, God knew neither Snake nor Raiden could handle it. Otacon rolled his eyes as he tucked the bag of Twinkies more comfortably under his arm. "No one. Thanks. Who knows where the nearest toy store is?" More silence. "No one. Thanks."   
Otacon decided it was his turn to be proactive and wandered over to the directory display in the middle of the concourse.   
  
Chapter 4   
  
Snake stared around him in disgust. The sight of all this pinkness was almost crippling. He knelt and put his hand to his ear. "Otacon, I took a wrong turn. I'm in some place with... tiny plastic women... tiny plastic hot women... entombed in clear plastic pods. There's a lot of pink stuff."   
"I think you're in the Barbie aisle," Otacon's voice came back. "You want action figures."  
"So much pink..." Snake said, his voice wavering.   
"It's okay. Go look at the Legos."  
"But the longer I'm here, the less I mind the pink."   
"Great," Otacon said, exasperated.   
"You don't think I could be gay, do you?" Snake asked nervously. He was reading the sides of some of the packages, and Lifeguard Barbie sounded kinda fun.   
"No. Go look at the Legos and reaffirm your heterosexuality. Then find those damn action figures and let's get out of here. This place is a sea of unwashed humanity."   
Snake signed off, wondering how Otacon had ever managed to coexist with him if he couldn't stand "unwashed humanity".   
He was on his way to the Lego section when something caught his eye. "Aha!" He yelled in triumph. He coughed. Damn cigarettes. He elbowed some punk with his pants halfway to his knees and a muscle shirt out of the way and stood in front of the shelf.   
It was a sight to behold.   
"Hey, I look like a Neanderthal," Snake said indignantly. He liked to think of himself as somewhere between James Bond and Indiana Jones, that action figure was just degrading. He was about to smash his foot into the display shelves when his Codec beeped.   
"Snake, Otacon!" Raiden exclaimed breathlessly.   
"What's up, Raiden?" Snake asked. He growled at teenage girl who was trying to reach around him for a Raiden action figure. "No, you don't want that, kid. Buy one of those is like buying a Barbie. And you've outgrown those." He looked her over appreciatively. He liked jailbait.   
"Pervert," She said, just as Raiden continued his out-of-breath gasping.   
"I found the... the..."   
"The what?" Otacon asked irritably.   
"The..."   
Snake rolled his eyes, and pictured Otacon doing the same.  
"The Hot Topic!" Raiden finally got out. Snake heard a screech of pure joy. He couldn't tell if it was from Otacon or Raiden.   
"Ooh, Hot Topic!" Snake exclaimed. "I'm on my way!" He shot up from his crouching position like a sprinter at the starting line and barreled toward the front of the store. 


	4. Chapter 4 1/2 ... Inside the Hot Topic!

A/N Just a quick little scene because I was wired on caffeine and I have the false notion that I am funny. Poor Otacon is really getting burned, isn't he? I gotta stop that, he's my favorite character. Why does Raiden always seem to avoid much ridicule? Oh, well, chalk it up to me loving to make fun of what I love. Anyway, the minute I own the rights to these characters, I will let you know. I also can't claim to be the author of those phrases on the T-shirts. I'll continue my illegal activities because Konami wouldn't waste their time suing some deluded teen from Wisconsin anyway… Right?  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Snake homed in on the Hot Topic. He was about to enter when he heard his name being hissed.  
  
"Psst! Snake!"  
  
Snake looked around in confusion.  
  
"Over here!"  
  
He turned around. Otacon was hiding behind a large, fake potted plant next to one of those cheap mall benches. He peered at Snake through the leafy plastic branches.  
  
"Raiden's been in there for almost ten minutes. I think he bought himself some of those Spice Girl shoes that are like 2 feet tall."  
  
"Oh, Lord," Snake groaned. He looked back at the store. "What are you doing out here?"  
  
"Reconnaissance. Sort of."  
  
"Sort of?"  
  
"Mostly, I'm just hiding from that group of girls," He said, gesturing with a tilt of his head at a group of teenagers standing in front of Electronics Boutique.  
  
"They're Metal Gear addicts. To them, we're gods," Otacon explained. "They jumped me. I had to hide in the Men's Room for twenty minutes."  
  
"You know, being a god in someone's eyes can get you… favors." Snake took a step toward the group of young things.  
  
"Sexual favors from a 16 year old? You're disgusting. Let's go rescue Raiden before he gets piercing in places unmentionable in a PG-13 story." Otacon sprang from behind the fake tree and raced into Hot Topic, catching Snake's arm and dragging him in behind him.  
  
Inside, he skidded to a stop. Surrounding him were teenagers that looked a lot scarier than those girls who were following him earlier. Leather, chains, hair dye, the whole nine yards.  
  
"Otacon, don't go into culture shock," Snake said. He gave Otacon a shove. "I think I see Raiden's big dumb head behind that T-shirt rack."  
  
Otacon was shaking. He gave a panicked whimper as Snake walked away, and rushed after him. He hung at Snake's heels as Snake threaded his way through the alternative-dressing guys and girls and over to the T-shirts.  
  
"Protect me," Otacon begged, as Snake came up next to Raiden.  
  
Raiden smiled at him. "Here, Otacon. I found the perfect shirt for you." He unfolded it and held it up for Otacon to see. "If I throw a stick, will you go away?"  
  
"That one's mine!" Snake said, grabbing it before Raiden could hurl it at Otacon.  
  
Otacon forgot his surroundings as anger got the best of him. He grabbed one from the rack and unfolded it, showing Raiden.  
  
"This one's for you." It was black, and said "Let's get one thing straight." And below that, in rainbow letters, it said "I'm not."  
  
"There you go, Raiden!" Snake exclaimed. He wasn't occupied for the moment, so he got to provide the commentary.  
  
Otacon balled up the T-shirt and shoved it back onto the rack. "Action figures, remember?"  
  
"In a minute," Snake said. He had caught sight of a T-shirt he absolutely HAD to have. He started laughing out loud as he read it. It was camouflage, and in bright white said, "Ha! Now you can't see me!"  
  
"This is just excellent!" Snake was still laughing.  
  
Otacon gave him one of those looks he usually reserved for Raiden.  
  
"They got action figures on the back wall," Raiden said as he continued browsing. "Go check it out."  
  
Otacon looked toward the back of the store. It seemed so very far away. And the Goths and punk rockers, and other alternative dressers stood between him and it.  
  
"Alone?" He asked, shaking violently.  
  
"You're a big boy now," Snake said. "Time to face up to your geekiness."  
  
"Geekiness? What geekiness?" He pushed his glasses back into place.  
  
"Just remember. These people are geeks in their own way. You're all ostracized by society," Raiden said helpfully.  
  
"Exactly," Snake chipped in. "You have more in common with the people in this store than you do with me and Raiden. Or anyone else in the entire universe."  
  
"I'm not a geek!" Otacon fumed.  
  
Snake gave him a nice smile.  
  
Otacon hung his head. "Fine. I'll go alone. But next chapter, we rip on Raiden. I'm sick of all the abuse you're heaping on me."  
  
"Good man," Snake said, patting his shoulder. He wandered toward the comic section. "Ooh, Johnny The Homicidal Maniac!"  
  
Otacon took a deep breath, held his head high, and moved toward the back wall of Hot Topic. 


	5. A Visit From the OPA

A/N Okay, I'm sorry about this chapter, guys. It was gonna happen sooner or later. Really, the disclaimers are getting kind of repetitive. Don't own them…and probably never will, no matter how much I hope… If you're looking for some progressively stupid rambling your place is here! Read on, brave adventurer! Hey, did you know that Dadaism is considered the "negative" phase of surrealism? Well, now you do. Also know that the "nosebleed" comment is based on Otaku Tess's Daily Lives story. Give credit where it is due. (Which means give none to me.)  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Snake heard growling behind him. It sounded like a big, mean, angry dog. So it could only be one person.  
  
"What's the matter, Raiden? Can't find one in your size?"  
  
Raiden was flipping through a rack of pink sparkly shirts that said "90% Angel".  
  
"No." He pouted a little.  
  
Snake looked at the pink form-fitting shirts. "Gee, I'm sorry, Raiden. If I didn't know better, I'd say you can't find one that fits because they're made for shapely 14 year old girls."  
  
Raiden flipped him off, but Snake didn't see, because his eyes had glazed over. "Mmm… jailbait."  
  
"That's getting so old, Snake," Raiden said.  
  
Snake snapped out of it in time to notice a group of girls in the vicinity. They were the ones Otacon had pointed out to him earlier. They were filing into the Hot Topic and picking their way toward him and Raiden. They looked determined, on a mission of dire import. Snake looked at Raiden, who was still desperately searching for a top that would fit him. Snake was intending to grab Raiden and head to the back of the store to protect Otacon, but the sight of a grown man shopping for teen girl clothes was so horrifying, it captured his interest for a few seconds. And by the time he looked back, the group of girls stood in front of him.  
  
"Excuse us," the one in front said, adjusting her glasses like Otacon. She was holding a clipboard.  
  
"Uh… yeah." Snake said. She looked like jailbait. And she was speaking to him! Woo hoo!  
  
"We're from the OPA," the one next to her said.  
  
"OPA?" Snake asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "OH! HEY! Are you one of those gay rights groups? Because then, you really want to talk to HIM…" Snake said, pointing at Raiden.  
  
"Otacon Protection Agency," the first girl said coolly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. We'd like to interview you. We check up on our man from time to time, to make sure he hasn't fallen in with… well, frankly, with the likes of you."  
  
"Who among you has not yet reached the age of consent?" Snake asked.  
  
The two lead girls exchanged looks. "Hmm, one track mind," the first one muttered, scribbling a few notes on her clipboard.  
  
"First you answer our questions, then we'll answer yours. Maybe."  
  
"Uh… okay."  
  
"First off, what are your living arrangements?"  
  
"We live in a … trailer…" Snake squinted, trying to remember. "Half- bath… in fact, most of the time we have to bathe outside, you see… with the hose."  
  
"Mm-hmm." More notes were taken.  
  
"Yearly income?"  
  
"Oh… uh… well, that depends."  
  
"On what?" The first girl narrowed her eyes at Snake over the rims of her glasses.  
  
"Well, on whether or not there's major terrorist activity, or the threat of thermonuclear war, really. And whether or not 7-11 needs a temp guy." Snake tried a sexy smile, but it had no effect.  
  
"Are there periods in the year where you are unemployed, Mister…"  
  
"Snake. Solid Snake."  
  
"Whatever. Answer the question."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And during those times, is Otacon forced to abandon his days spent idly pursuing his anime hobbies to support you, you lazy ass bastard?" The second girl snapped coldly.  
  
"Uh… no?"  
  
"Inveterate liar," the first girl said to the second. They nodded seriously.  
  
"Okay, Mister Snake. How would you describe your relationship with Otacon?"  
  
"Well… we're… mutually… caring, about each other and stuff. He knows he can always come to me, and I won't be mad if … he dents the car, or if he …"  
  
"You have a car?" the second girl asked dubiously.  
  
"Well, not a car, per se."  
  
"What, then?"  
  
"It's a bloody box with wheels on it, okay?"  
  
"Inability to control his temper," the second girl said. "Make a note of that. Mister Snake, I'm afraid you are digging yourself one deep hole."  
  
"But Otacon's happy with me!" Snake protested. What the hell was with these people? Couldn't they see that… he and Otacon… they were… happy! Broke, but happy! On the verge of starvation, but happy! Otacon was inhaling massive amounts of second hand smoke, but by God, he did it happily!  
  
"We'll see." The girl with the clipboard shuffled her papers officiously. "Do you regularly consume enough alcohol to impair your motor functions and judgment?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"She's asking if you get drunk a lot, dummy," Raiden said from behind the rack of shirts at Snake's elbow.  
  
"... Yes?"  
  
"Are you asking me or telling me?" Girl With Clipboard asked.  
  
"Telling you. I guess."  
  
"And are there firearms in the home?"  
  
"Lady, look. I'm a soldier. Of course there's bound to be some shoulder- mounted missile launchers and the odd grenade or two about. Toothpicks and fuzzy bunny slippers, as well. It's not pretty, but it's part of the job."  
  
"Oh, Mister Snake. Things are not looking good. We may be forced to remove Otacon from your care and place him in a more nurturing, loving environment."  
  
"No, no!" Snake said desperately. The thought of losing Otacon was … embarrassing. "He's happy with me. If you don't believe me, go ask him! He's right back there!"  
  
"Ooh, thank you," the second girl said, immediately abandoning her professionalism. She raced off toward the back of the Hot Topic to find her true love.  
  
Snake breathed a sigh of relief. "Say," he said to the remaining young woman standing in front of him, "You aren't technically a consenting adult, are you?"  
  
"No. But I've got to go back to the office and process this." She beat him on the head with the clipboard. "There, a little slapstick for good measure."  
  
Raiden got a nice big laugh out of that, because he was still at the "potty and oh-look-a-person-got-hit-with-something-painful!" stage of his humor development. "Screw you," Snake growled.  
  
He saw the girls' eyes widen. She made more notes.  
  
"I didn't mean it!" He protested again. "What I meant was, I love you, Raiden! I respect you for who you are, and it's not your fault you were born dumb."  
  
"He's lying again," the girl with the clipboard said as she ushered the group of Otacon fans back toward the entrance to the store.  
  
Snake grabbed Raiden's arm and pulled him toward the back. "We have to find Otacon and get him out of here before that girl finds him. Otherwise, he'll get a nosebleed."  
  
"You really think she'd be all over him like a cheap suit?" Raiden asked.  
  
"Well. No. I'm sure she's got more class than that. But you have to understand about Otacon, he's a bit…"  
  
"Gay?" Raiden offered.  
  
"No, silly!" Snake said, giggling in a suddenly high voice. "I'm the one whose sexuality is under constant scrutiny in this duo. He's… just a bit…"  
  
"Scared?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Otacon grabbed the Fortune action figure and tried to balance it on top of the stack of other boxes he had in his hands. "Okay. Fortune, Raiden, Olga, check. Now we need… Snake… Solidus… and Ocelot." He scanned the shelves. "Damn it." He cocked his head. "Did I actually just say that? That felt kinda good. Damn it! No reason Snake should be the only one who gets to use casual profanity."  
  
He shoved around the boxes for a few more minutes. "No Otacon action figures. Oh, that's RIGHT! I've been passed over for my own action figure… TWICE!"  
  
"Right, and I express my deepest condolences," Snake said quickly, appearing at his side. "And remember, I'm your friend. I'm here for ya, buddy. You can always come to me and I devote my waking hours to your happiness. You're happy, right?" He said hurriedly, looking around for that girl.  
  
"… Sure," Otacon said in confusion.  
  
"Great. Hussle. We have to go." Snake scooped up a few more action figure boxes for good measure. He shoved Otacon toward the checkout counter.  
  
"What are you doing? We don't need those."  
  
"Oh, you know. Always want to go the extra mile for you, buddy. Friend. Love you, you know?"  
  
Otacon looked at Raiden. "You haven't been spraying any of that scented hand cleanser, have you? He's allergic to that. Makes him…"  
  
"Hurry up!" Snake grabbed the packages from Otacon and threw them at the cashier. The line had cleared out when they saw Snake coming… Raiden couldn't imagine why.  
  
The cashier rang up the nine action figures, six of which were duplicates, and put them in those cool bags.  
  
Snake looked back and saw the president of the OPA approaching. He dragged the bags off the counter. "Everybody – run away!"  
  
"You've been sniffing the incense, haven't you," Otacon said.  
  
"Do you want to be taken away from me and forced to live in some sterile mansion with beautiful young girls fawning over you all day?"  
  
"Uh…"  
  
"Come on, you know you like the filthy trailer. And all of my various smells and stupors. Run."  
  
Otacon, Raiden, and Snake fled the Hot Topic, thus ending their foray into Alternative Teen Land. 


	6. Chapter 6... I Think. More Filler!

Ah, this kicks off another very small plot point. I feel kind of silly even posting it – it's not very good. But it's been far too long since I've updated. Anyway, I apologize to all the better, funnier stories that will be pushed down a slot by my update. =) Disclaimer-thingy: Opinions expressed within are not necessarily those I hold in real life, I don't own anything mentioned within… all I did was string the words together.  
  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
  
  
Raiden trotted perkily forward. It was a great day to be a capitalist! In fact, this whole mall was so perfect, it put a song in his heart and set his toes a-tappin'! Nevermind the herd of security guards currently tailing him because they were suspicious of his sword.  
  
"… it's the end of the world as we know it… it's the end of the world as we know it…" He bounced happily along, singing to himself. "… and I feel fine!"  
  
He was so caught up in being cheery that he didn't notice his two companions had fallen behind. He finally heard an agonized cry and turned to see Otacon down on his knees.  
  
Raiden hurried back as Snake hovered next to Otacon.  
  
"Must… have… anime," Otacon gasped.  
  
"What?" Snake asked.  
  
"Power… spent… systems shutting down. Need anime," Otacon managed.  
  
Snake suddenly clutched his chest and screamed in pain, crumpling to the floor next to Otacon. "Aggh!"  
  
"What the hell?" Raiden asked.  
  
"Fox… die." Snake said in a hoarse, pained whisper.  
  
"Ani…me," Otacon said in a similar tone.  
  
"Oh, come on," Raiden said, looking at them uncomfortably. He nudged Snake with his foot.  
  
Snake launched himself to his feet, punched Raiden twice and did a nice kick and sent Raiden sprawling into the entrance of Baja Hut. "Damn kid!" He spat. He smirked at Otacon. "I've been waiting to do that for the last six chapters."  
  
Otacon moaned. "Spike… Jet… Faye! Save me!"  
  
Raiden dragged himself back to the sorry group. "That wasn't funny."  
  
Snake laughed.  
  
"No, I mean it. That was just stupid."  
  
"Alright, maybe. But I had fun!"  
  
"3, 2, 1… les'jam…" Otacon slurred. He tipped over.  
  
"Copyright infringement!" someone shrieked.  
  
"Shut up!" Snake yelled. To Otacon, he said, "There's a SunCoast somewhere in here. Hold out a little longer, buddy. We'll get ya some anime." Snake patted Otacon's arm as affectionately as he could using only his shoe. He looked at Raiden. "Our next order of business is to find Otacon some anime before the life force is sucked completely from his skinny little body."  
  
"It's a sexy body!" said a completely random chick walking by.  
  
"Stop intruding!" Snake snapped. "Damn non-essential characters!"  
  
A man, hearing this, stopped and said, "I'm not non-essential. Don't you recognize me?"  
  
Snake tried to place him, but couldn't. "No. Who the hell are you?"  
  
"Oh, come on, Snake. I couldn't have meant that little to you?" The man was near tears.  
  
Snake didn't like the look Raiden was giving him. He also didn't like the position this guy was putting him in. Especially if he and this man had been in… other positions… and Snake couldn't remember it.  
  
"I'm sorry… I don't remember you. We didn't do anything untoward together, did we? Because, uh, if so, I was probably drunk at the time…"  
  
"Oh, nothing like that."  
  
Raiden let out a disappointed sigh, Snake sighed in relief.  
  
The man looked disgusted. "You people have filthy minds."  
  
"We really do," Snake said, nodding. "Our brains are in the gutter. We're all rafting down the filth together. So, it would be great if you would just… go. Honestly, whatever happened between us… as long as I'm not the father of your kid or anything, let's just both move on with our lives. Mmmkay?"  
  
"Fine." Mystery Man looked hurt. "Can you at least direct me to the rest room?"  
  
Raiden open his mouth.  
  
"The MEN'S room," he specified.  
  
Raiden closed his mouth.  
  
"I would, but my friend here is about to go catatonic. We're off to SunCoast."  
  
The guy popped some more Pepto Bismo tablets and rushed off. Snake shrugged, grabbed Otacon by an arm, and waved Raiden to do the same. They picked him up and dragged him toward the SunCoast, where the precious anime awaited. 


	7. Chapter 7, Which Is Actually 9 - Just To...

[A/N] After a long silence... I have decided to once again exercise my not-so-good ability to pen parodies. I hope somebody out there finds this funny. :) If not... I'll try to do better next time. lol Anyway, I hold the copyrights to none of this, and I sincerely apologize for not only parodying (is that a word?) Mr. Kojima's wonderful work, but not being very good at it to boot. He deserves to have a funnier person gently poking fun at his creations. Heheh   
  
btw... Uh... something really freaky happened the first time I tried to upload the chapters because I'm just not smart. I hope I fixed the spacing issues by uploading in the proper format this time. lol My beautiful spacing! No!   
  
  
Chapter Nine   
  
"I'm pretty sure this wasn't necessary," Otacon said. He was trying to look like he was not standing next to a man who was obviously peering into the changing stall in Victoria's Secret.   
  
"I'm equally sure it was. I didn't stop you from grabbing every anime DVD in sight back at SunCoast, and you're not going to deprive me of one of the only joys in my mostly joyless life either."   
  
Otacon had to draw the line somewhere. "Okay. Fifteen minutes. If I see you going for the stealth gear, I'm calling security."   
  
Snake shook his head sadly. "Oh, how naïve you are."  
  
Raiden leaned closer to Otacon and whispered in his ear, "The security guard's at the other peep hole."   
  
"Fifteen minutes," Otacon repeated firmly.   
  
"That'll be twenty bucks," the peeping security guard whispered to Snake, never removing his eye from the tiny opening in the changing stall's wall.   
  
A particularly lovely lady must have been in the stall, because Snake agreed quite readily.   
  
It didn't last long. Before Snake could see anything, Otacon's decency took over. He turned to Raiden to enlist his help but... Raiden was strangely absent.   
Otacon, blessed with a find mind as he was, put two and two together immediately. He stared at the empty spot Raiden had occupied a moment earlier, then at Snake salivating as he stared into the changing stall's peep hole, and couldn't help but grin.   
  
A very girly shriek emanated from the stall.   
  
"I've been spotted!" Snake exclaimed in dismay, proving that he was skilled at grasping the bloody obvious.   
  
Raiden burst from the changing stall, clutching several ... lacey things to his chest. "You perverts!" He wailed.   
  
Snake wailed too. Something different.   
  
They both went off on tirades, directed at each other.   
  
"I FEEL DIRTY!" Raiden yelled in disgust.   
  
"I feel dirty," Snake complained at the exact same moment.   
  
Raiden looked to Otacon. Snake knew what he was thinking, and cut him off. "DON'T bring him into this. He's so predictable. He'll just accuse us both of being dirty."   
  
"Aren't we?"   
  
Snake shrugged as Raiden gathered up his lace - ahem - garments and went up to the pink counter.   
  
"Thank you, sir, that'll be..."   
  
The cashier finally got a look at Raiden. "You again!" He said in dismay.   
  
"Oh, Lord. It's you."   
  
"None other." Raiden's things were stuffed into a bag by hands with great feminine efficiency.   
  
"Vamp," Snake growled. Or maybe purred. Hard to tell, really.   
  
"Vamp?" Otacon asked.   
  
Snake didn't want to tell Otacon anything that might make him start wailing like a little girl, so he sort of skirted the issue. "Old... friend. Old friend."   
  
"Every instinct and scrap of common sense tells me not to believe you."  
  
"Understandable." 


	8. Chapter 8! Scones & Skettios

[A/N] I own nothin'. :) A few reviews would be nice, if you, you know, feel like it. Here's hoping this chapter doesn't fall flat.   
  
Chapter 10   
  
"And so then I said, '20 bucks, same as in town!'"  
  
Nobody quite got it.   
  
"He watched Night Court yesterday," Ocelot guessed.   
  
"Only the best sitcom ever," Solidus affirmed. Yes, his super suit had foolishly highlighted his spinal column and it had been a large fall from that building... but he was feeling much better now. A little ice, a little aspirin - good as new.   
  
"I want a scone!"   
  
"I told you, we don't have any scones."   
  
Solidus had become very accustomed to these little British-accented outbursts from Liquid.   
  
"But I want one!"   
  
"Maybe when we get to the mall."   
  
Ocelot's arm looked about as subdued as can be expected of an arm, and Ocelot grimaced. "Whiny little brat, isn't he?" he said in his normal voice.   
  
"I heard that!" Liquid had gotten into the habit of moving his fingers and thumb to mimick a hand puppet whenever he spoke, since technically he lacked a mouth of his own.   
  
"Why don't you ever let me drive?" Ocelot asked. The mind-numbing boredom was getting to him.   
  
"I would, but every time Brit-boy takes over, you suddenly careen into the other lane."   
  
"I do? How embarrassing."   
  
"Yeah. You couldn't get a nice normal arm from a Canadian, or even an American... you had to grab one from somebody who's used to driving on the opposite side of the road."  
  
"I heard that too!"   
  
"Get the shopping list and shut up."   
  
"You're so insensitive..." Liquid's voice lamented.   
  
Chapter 11   
  
  
"Anyone else hungry?" Raiden asked. The Twinkies had dutifully refilled his life bar when he had fallen off his new platform shoes, but weren't rightly what could be called "filling". As long as it wasn't Rose's cooking, he figured.   
  
"Can we find someplace that serves Skettios?"   
  
"We can certainly try."   
  
"Scones & Skettios," Otacon said.   
  
"I'm just saying, it would be nice," Snake said.   
  
"I hear you. Keep an eye out," Raiden replied.  
  
"Scones. And. Skettios." Otacon said a bit louder.   
  
"I know it's not usual menu fair, but there has to be someplace-"  
  
"Scones AND SKETTIOS." It was said about as loudly as Otacon ever got. When neither took notice of him, Otacon sighed and walked into the nearest doorway, abandoning the two grunts.   
  
"Now where is he going?" Raiden asked. He put his hands on his hips like a complete woman.   
  
Snake looked up at the bright neon lettering right above his head. "Hey! Scones & Skettios!" The joy that came to his weathered, hardened face as he read that sign was something to behold.   
  
  
Chapter 12   
  
"SCONES!" Liquid's voice yelped excitedly, sounding very much like a small, frighteningly British child.   
  
"And Skettios," Ocelot finished.   
  
Solidus shoved Ocelot/Liquid toward the doorway. "Thank Outer Heaven. Now that one will shut up."   
  
"You just feel superior because daddy loved you best."   
  
"If I felt superior - which I do - it wouldn't be because dad loved me best."   
  
"Oh, so just because you have a body, you think you're better than me?" Liquid was feeling quite antagonistic and disagreeable. Well, you know... as much as an arm ever feels antagonistic and disagreeable.  
  
They joined the line formed for the scone counter, which was surprisingly lengthy. Solidus flipped open a compartment built onto the side of his super suit thing and took out his wallet.   
  
"Crap... I'm out of cash. You got any?"  
  
"If you're asking whether Ocelot has any, I don't know. I should make him start carrying my wallet."   
  
"Well, can you ask him?"   
  
"Why don't you just check?" Liquid asked obstinately.   
  
"That would involve reaching in his pocket and... that just wouldn't look very cool."   
  
"Come on, there's a ton of people with alternative lifestyles here. Look at that bunch," Liquid said, waving his commandeered arm in Snake, Otacon, and Raiden's general direction. "Right there. A crossdresser."   
  
Solidus rolled his eyes. "Alright, will you just check his wallet?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Why the hell not?" Solidus asked in exasperation.  
  
"I'm not going to rummage in another man's pants!" Liquid exclaimed indignantly. They got several strange looks.   
  
"But you're-" Solidus gave up and hung his head. "Fine. Let me talk to Ocelot."   
  
"What?" Ocelot looked around. "Where are we?"   
  
"Ye olde scone shop. I'm out of cash, you got any?"   
  
"Why didn't you just look?" Ocelot sounded strangely annoyed.   
  
"His subconscious was in the middle of a filthy fantasy," Liquid broke in.   
  
Ocelot went to grab his wallet. Liquid immediately took offense.   
  
"Hey! Get MY hand out of YOUR pants!"   
  
Ocelot groaned and went for his wallet with his left hand. Solidus grinned uncomfortably at the patrons inching away from the two - three? - men.   
  
Ocelot found a couple of bills and pulled them out. "Wait. Why am I paying for HIS scone?"   
  
"It's going to end up in your stomach either way," Solidus pleaded, wanting the whole scone affair to be over and done with as painlessly as possible.   
  
"But I hate scones!" Ocelot complained.  
  
"I love scones," Liquid said, as if that settled it.   
  
"Scones make me sick."   
  
"I could live on scones."   
  
This continued up until they got to the counter, procured a scone, and sat at a cramped table. Then it turned to a battle for Ocelot's mouth. Really, two people in one body posed some thought-provoking questions. 


End file.
